the six stages
by fashiongirl97
Summary: There are six stages to Huntington's disease, each one worse than the last.Jenny didn't need the doctors to tell her she was dying from the same thing that had killed her mother - now her time has come. Jenny's final years fighting, living and loving...


_Disclaimer – I don't own ncis_

_Here you go, a one shot filled with sadness and angst. _

_MENTIONS OF HUNTINGTONS DISEASE _

_Hope you enjoy and thanks to my amazing beta reader NCIS Geek for her help xx_

Her eyes fluttered closed as she sat at the desk. She didn't know if she could do this, live a life of lies and deceit, until she forgot everything about herself and lived the rest of her days in some serialised hospital ward, taken care of by those nurses with that sad, pitying look in their eyes. She knew what was wrong with her; she hadn't needed any doctor's confirmation or tests. Her mother had had it, and now so did she. She'd watched her mother die: a cold, inhumane, and weak death. Jenny didn't want to die the same way, but there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Her right hand that held her pen was shaking away, making small round dots on the edge of the case report. The sight of that small, almost imperceptible tremble made her shiver – it was beginning. Her writing had become so jagged that she typed whenever possible. She didn't think anyone had noticed, or if Cynthia had, she knew to keep quiet. She felt helpless; she'd pick up a coffee and nearly spill it as the shaking got worse. She'd gone out to a meal with the senators and ended up leaving half of her meal still sitting on her plate, simply because her shaking was becoming more obvious. She knew that Noemi had noticed, but then again the woman had been there whilst Jenny's mother had the same disease.

The shaking scared her; it was the start of her becoming dependant on other people. She was an independent woman and the thought of having to have other people do things for her horrified her. She'd gone down to the range the other day, and a shot she used to be able to do with her eyes closed had become a physical and mental battle against the disease's effects and her will. Quickly, she dropped her pen and clenched her fists together before pressing them down on the desk. It had worked just a few weeks ago, but she had an akinetic-rigid syndrome as well. It was strange in someone of her age, but it had happened. It meant she would progress worse and faster.

She had memorized the levels of the disease by heart now: the first stage was mood swings. Then it progressed on to a decline in coordination and subtle body movements. Signs of the third level were jerky body movements, decrease in mental abilities, and behavioural and physical iatric problems. There were only three more steps, the fourth including impediment of physical movements until it becomes very hard. The last two stages was the scariest. It was when her mental abilities would deteriorate into dementia.

Then with stage six it's just a case of letting Huntington's disease take your life. Whether it be from the problems it causes: heart disease or pneumonia, or old age. The worst thing is it isn't always fast. Jenny was on stage two, but approaching stage three now. She knew she would have to resign soon; she couldn't continue to do this job when she couldn't move. She'd gotten her revenge, but it had taken over her life. She hadn't done the simple things she would have loved to do; get married, have a kid or two. Her revenge had taken over her life; she'd fallen in love but she had left him. She'd gotten her job, but left herself behind in the process. And, she admitted to herself, it hurt to think that she left everything behind for a cold, hollow satisfaction.

She remembered her mother's death; she'd been thirteen when her mother had been diagnosed and 16 when she had died. Her mother was lucky in that respect; she hadn't had to live that long under the disease's control. But Jenny remembered, all to clearly, when her mother had reached stage five, the day that Jenny had come home from school and her mother had forgotten who she was. Jenny remembered the sharp pain that had stabbed through her heart. She had promised herself that it would not happen again.

Now that was her. She was the one who would forget every memory she had made, every person she had helped or been helped by, and every family she had brought justice to – but worst of all, she would forget Paris. She would forget how young and in love she was. That was what hurt the most.

She turned around and gazed out of the window. Rain pattered down outside; creating a soothing, familiar sound. The lights from the Navy Yard shined brightly, contrasting strikingly against the coal black of night. It was her favourite view, scene, and place. Just gazing out and watching as life passed her by. It seemed as though she had spent the last three years watching as life passed her by. Tonight was no different.

She stood up, only to fall back down. Her head was spinning and her knees buckled under her. It was beginning. Stage three was starting. A silent tear started to roll down her face. She heard her door slam, and Jethro stood there, staring a hole in her back. "What do you want, Jethro?" she questioned in a bare whisper. Her voice was quiet, weak; there was no point hiding it any longer. He could pick that out in her voice and it made him stop. All of a sudden his anger was wiped away. He walked around the desk and saw another tear rolling down her cheek.

"Jen?" he questioned, his heart being torn in two. He had never seen her cry; he didn't think she would ever. She'd always been so strong, yet here she sat, crying, silently and alone.

"Leave it, Jethro." She said, tone raw with unsaid emotion, avoiding his eyes, still looking outside. He placed his hand don her cheek and turned her face towards him. Looking deep in her eyes he saw the pain, the regret and the fear; it was something he had never seen in her before. Jethro had watched as Jenny fought death, day in day out. She'd been held hostage and had a gun held to her head. But never had she been scared.

"No Jenny, not again." He looked down to her shaking hands and cupped them in his own. She looked in his eyes, seeing the one thing she had only ever hoped to see, love and compassion. "What's going on Jen?"

"It's starting Jethro, It's starting." She didn't know why she was telling him this. She didn't want anyone to know, anyone to see her weak. Jenny Shepard did not want people to look at her as another victim of this disease. Then again, Jethro had always blown her plans away. She had never expected to fall him love with him, after all.

"Jenny, what is starting?" he was worried now, forehead creased in worry lines.

"I'm dying. I…I have Huntington's disease Jethro; I have the fastest and worst strain of it." Her quiet sobs filled the silent room. He was shocked as he pulled her into his warm and strong embrace. Tears filled the hard as nails ex-marine's eyes as his walls crumbled down. The second love of his life was dying, only this time he couldn't get revenge, or help. Instead he had to watch her die. But he would do what he could, because she needed him.

"I'll be here for you Jen." He knew the symptoms of the disease; a victim's mother on a case had it. She had been caring for her when she was murdered. Now he was going to be there for Jenny, because she needed him, and he would be here, by her side.

_**-**__**the six stages**__**-**_

Jenny resigned two weeks later; she realised that she wanted to spend the last of her time with those she loved. She may have resigned but she spent many of her days at NCIS; in the bullpen, in autopsy, and in Abby's lab. SecNav become more of a friend than a boss to them all. He'd call by, go out for meals, and generally have a laugh. It was strange at first, but soon he became like an uncle to Jenny. As she become more ill, and entered the stage where she struggled to do anything, he let her and the team take leave when they left to stay with her.

To any outsider, she looked like an ordinary woman; she laughed and smiled and cried whenever the team was over. They would gather around her bed and tell stories. It had been weird at first, but then they had become more comfortable as the weeks passed by.

In the two years that followed, they became closer than anyone could have had ever imagined. Jenny and Jethro didn't marry, instead they just become closer than ever - mainly because marriages never worked for Jethro and Jenny thought weddings were too cliché. On one of the days when Jethro had a case, Jenny made her will. She didn't leave it all to Jethro; instead she left the house to Abby, because it was a family home, and Abby was like a daughter. Jethro, he got the pick of her belongings. Little things went to each person; her films to Tony, books to McGee, and personal jewellery and weapons to Ziva.

_**-the six stages-**_

On the 24th December 2011, at 20:30, Jenny Shepard passed away. She had spent three years battling the disease that had threatened to ruin her life. She had spent six months fighting dementia, a battle she had lost. But on that day, they were all gathered around her bed. She remembered everything. They laughed, and smiled and told stories like the old days. But Jethro had known that Jenny was dying that night. She'd fallen asleep in his arms. But she hadn't woken up.

The autopsy report classed it as a heart attack. It was silent, and mercifully, she didn't suffer. But Christmas would never be the same again. It would be filled with memories of that day. The funeral was not held in Arlington, but in a family cemetery. It was small, and quiet – not professional.

Jennifer Shepard would never be forgotten. She fought a life threatening disease for three years, yet never lost who she was. But in the end, it was her own body that took her life. But she died happy. Because she died with something she had never thought she would have – a man who loved her, and a family.

There are six stages to Huntington's disease, each one worse than the last. But she fought as strong as she could, and will never be forgotten by anyone who knew her, because she had touched so, so many lives with her strength, courage, and perseverance.

_Review?_


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